


lay us down (we're in love)

by rogersmorse



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fake Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogersmorse/pseuds/rogersmorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t die out there,” he whispers, pressing another gentle kiss to her lips as he slips the keychain into her palm. Bobbi forces a smile as she grips it tightly, hefts her bag onto her shoulder, and walks out the door for what would be the last time.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>rating upped for chapter 8</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it's hard to say "good morning" when it's followed with goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> -This is probably one of the rudest and _l o n g e s t_ pieces I have ever written. I am currently halfway though it and I've just reached 8.7k.
> 
> -This is dedicated to [Rachel](https://twitter.com/aqentsimmons), who actually started off the idea and it spiraled into a 5 hour brainstorming session that ended with me writing 3k in just under twelve hours. My little Satan's apprentice. I couldn't have done this without you.
> 
> -Fic title taken from "The End of All Things," by Panic! At the Disco (the main inspo for this entire fic)
> 
> -Chapter title taken from "Eyelids," by PVRIS

“Bobbi, you have to get ready,” Lance laughs as she sucks a bruise under his jaw. She hesitates for a brief second before scraping her teeth down his neck.

“No, no I don’t.” She pushes him onto his back and straddles his waist, biting a line down to his collarbone. 

“You have a mission,” he groans as he slides his hands up her legs.

“Fuck it.”

“Bobbi!” She pulls back with a forced grin, rolling her hips down. He shakes his head as he splays his fingers over her ribcage. “What’s gotten into you?” She cocks an eyebrow and he taps her side lightly, rolling his eyes.

“Just-. Five more minutes,” she whispers, trying not to let her dread show through. He huffs a laugh through his nose and pulls her back in for a kiss.

“Five more minutes then.”

-

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Bobbi twists her head to look at him, lifting an eyebrow, and he sighs. “You’re acting very different. Like you don’t want to go on your mission.” She swallows around the lump in her throat and zips her bag before turning to loop her arms around his neck. His hands settle on her waist, pulling her tight against his body.

“This one’s a little dangerous. That’s all,” she mutters, looking down at her feet. He hums in response and presses his lips to her forehead.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re going to kick ass and I’ll be here waiting for you. Now, c’mon, you’ll be late.” She leans into his body and closes her eyes, trying to memorize every little detail. One of his hands leaves her waist to tilt her chin up so he can properly kiss her. Tears prick behind her eyelids and she kisses him harder, pouring everything she has into it. Lance pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, and he digs around in his pocket before pulling out the familiar token.

“Don’t die out there,” he whispers, pressing another gentle kiss to her lips as he slips the keychain into her palm. Bobbi forces a smile as she grips it tightly, hefts her bag onto her shoulder, and walks out the door for what would be the last time.

-

She makes it just down the block before she has to pull over, tears blurring her vision. The one time he pushes her to leave for her mission is the one time she desperately wants him to make her stay.

Gasping sobs wrack her body as she pulls her sleeve over her fist and wipes at her cheeks. She covers her face with both hands and the keychain, still clutched tightly between her fingers, digs into her forehead.

It takes her another minute to get her breathing back under control, hands falling into her lap as she sniffles. With her thumb, she traces over the raised letters, thinking how she shouldn’t be the one to have this.

She had strict orders to leave everything behind. No clothes, no jewelry, no nothing. But she couldn’t bring herself to push the keychain back in his hand; he’d surely figure out that something was wrong, thus comprising the mission, she justifies, and that’s why she has to keep this keychain.

Shield can’t take it away from her; it’s not theirs to take. This was her’s and Lance’s thing, and she’d rather die than give it up. She snorts at her word choice before bringing the keychain up closer to her face, her face growing solemn.

This would be the only thing she had left of him, and she’ll be damned if anyone tries to take it from her.

-

It’s just around midnight when Bobbi sneaks back to the park. The mission had gone as planned, Shield took everything she owned, and she was given a room at the base. She’s not even sure if she’s permitted to leave the base now that she’s “dead.”

She doesn’t care anymore. This is something she has to do.

Bobbi scales the tree with ease, just as she had done twelve hours ago, and she feels around for the giant knot in the branch. It was just deep enough to hide a black pouch, which she had been so careful to conceal, covering it up with leaves and sticks.

Her fingers touch smooth fabric and she sobs in relief as she closes her fist around the bag. She feels the outline of two circles against her palm and nearly loses her footing as she climbs back down. 

As soon as she’s on the ground, she upends the bag, dumping the contents into her hand, and tears start to well up. The ring clacks noisily against the keychain as she squeezes them tightly in her hand, and she’s sobbing before she can even think twice.

She doesn’t know how much time passes; all she knows is she cries until she’s physically unable to cry anymore. She ends up dry-heaving in the bushes, wishing she could call him up and ask him to bring her home.

-

Bobbi was supposed to come home two days ago, it’s not like he’s panicking. 

Except he is. He’s pacing the length of the apartment, gripping his cell phone tightly, praying that the call will come in with good news. He’s been awake for just under 48 hours now, and the world’s starting to vibrate. It’s getting hard to keep his eyelids open and he moves to the couch, almost falling asleep.

It’s then that his phone rings. He jumps off the couch, answers it quicker than he should’ve, but he just wants news.

“Hello?”

“Is this Lance Hunter?”

“Yes, who’s this?”

“Shield Medical.” His heart leaps into his throat and he feels a smile start to spread across his face. “Sir, we regret to inform you…” The smile disappears quickly and he falls back on the couch.

He feels numb. He doesn’t remember what the rest of the phone call was about, doesn’t even remember if he responded. He heard ‘regret’ and the world dropped out from underneath his feet.

Time stretches on indefinitely as he stares at the wall, trying to make sense of everything. It hits him like a freight train and this must be hell.

It’s the worst pain he’s ever felt. It radiates out from his chest, all the way down to his fingers and toes. He feels like he’s on fire and drowning at the same time, and he can’t breathe.

He can’t breathe, the world is too loud, too bright, too close, and he has never been more certain that dying would be better than this.


	2. a shadow you won't recognize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The service ends. Lance moves to the stand next to the casket (empty), one hand resting limply on the wood. The small crowd disperses fairly quickly, and Bobbi’s heart breaks.
> 
> She never thought her own funeral would be so lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for how long it's been. this has been sitting on my laptop for _months_ and i finally finished it this past week. and so hey, here are some (hopefully) regular updates.
> 
> ch. title: _20 years,_ the civil wars

The service ends. Lance moves to the stand next to the casket (empty), one hand resting limply on the wood. The small crowd disperses fairly quickly, and Bobbi’s heart breaks. It’s just Lance’s family, Izzy and Vic, Idaho, and Mack left standing around, and Bobbi bites her tongue to keep from crying.

She never thought her own funeral would be so lonely.

Lance is still standing at the casket, shoulders slumped forward more than before, and she decides now is the best time. The net of camouflage on her face itches like a motherfucker, but it’s worth the trouble; it means she gets to see him one last time. She walks forward on shaky legs, digging her nails into her arm to steel herself. He turns just as she gets to him and he nods his head.

“Thank you for coming,” he rasps, and her lips curl up in a sad smile as she steps forward and pulls him into a hug.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she breathes as she clings tightly to him. He freezes before his hand lightly pats her back, and she knows she’s lingering. Bobbi steps back and pulls at the bottom of her jacket with one hand, cupping his cheek with the other. He meets her eyes, and for a split second, she thinks he knows. But then he nods and looks down at the ground, and the moment is gone. She swallows thickly and turns on her heel, walking away with a hand pressed to her chest in hopes it’ll make the pain go away.

-

Their anniversary lands 39 days after her “death.” 

She breaks protocol (for what must be the 39th time).

Fury ordered her to stay away. The whole “death” thing kinda cemented that in place, but it doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about reaching out to him.

It keeps her up at night, knowing how simple it would be to write a letter, to call him, to show up at their apartment. To mail him the dumb fucking keychain she holds onto tightly, the edge digging into her palm as she grips it in her hand, trying to sleep.

Bobbi puts the camouflage mask on and checks his apartment. He’s not there and that’s what scares her, because she knows the only other alternative.

Sure enough, he’s at the bar across the street. Looking at the line of glasses in front of him, he’s at least two glasses of whiskey in. By the looks of it, he doesn’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon.

She takes the booth in the corner, flagging down the waitress for a beer (she’d prefer a three olive martini, hold the olives, but that’s too obvious; he’d know). She has a perfect view of Lance from here and that’s what really matters. 

The light catches his wedding ring as he knocks back the third one, slamming the glass down when it’s empty. Bobbi toys with her own wedding ring and she digs her fingernails into her skin once she realizes what she’s doing.

Protocol dictates that agents not wear any jewelry on missions. This is the first time she’s worn it since her “death,” and the familiar weight of it on her finger makes her chest ache. 

Bobbi continues to watch as he drinks two more glasses of whiskey without slowing down and it kills her to watch him do this. They drank together all the time, but this was very different from the Lance she married; this Lance was losing himself in the bottom of a bottle. He’s staring into his sixth glass when it occurs to her that Fury had broken his promise, and red-hot anger flows through her veins. 

She had made it clear that if she took this deal, she wanted him to be protected, to be cared for. Yet here he is, drinking his problems away, and where the fuck was someone to watch him. She picks at the label with her thumbnail, trying to ignore the urge to call Fury and chew his ass out. if she called, he’d know she broke protocol; she doesn’t want to know what happens if he finds out.

Lance starts to slump forward on the bar and the bartender leans across to tell him to go home. Bobbi sees her chance and goes to the bar.

“Hunter, hey!” she says, trying to sound as casual as possible. He looks at her with glassy eyes and she plasters on the fakest grin she can manage. “He’s my neighbor, I’ll make sure he gets home safely. And I think this should cover his and my tab,” she says, tossing a handful of cash on the bar. The bartender nods as she slings Lance’s arm around her shoulder.

“Let’s get you home.” Her voice catches on the last word and he mutters something under his breath as she walks them out of the bar. He continues to blather as they cross the street, and she thinks she hears the word, ‘anniversary,’ and she pointedly ignores the way her heart twinges.

The stairs are a challenge. His face very nearly meets the floor at least two times, and it seems like he’s trying to twist out of her grip. 

They reach the door and she pauses to think things through, letting him sit against the wall. She decides that leaving him outside the door is the most logical decision, and she crouches down next to him.

“Why was it her and not me?” he asks her in quiet voice and she bites down on her lip. Bobbi doesn’t trust herself to answer the question honestly, so she simply leans forward to kiss his cheek, simultaneously grabbing his keys out of his pocket.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as she leaves, after scratching up the deadbolt and dropping the keys in his lap, so it looks as if he drunkenly tried to get back into his apartment. She’s got one hand on the door to the stairwell when she turns back to look at him one last time. 

Not for the first time, she wishes that maybe she’d given more thought to her decision, because seeing him like this was worse than dying.


	3. i can't handle it when i turn off my night light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five months after she’s gone, Lance realizes that he doesn’t have the keychain.

Five months after she’s gone, Lance realizes that he doesn’t have the keychain.

It’s two in the morning and he’s lying in bed, thinking of that last morning with her, like he always does, and he remembers handing her the keychain. It occurs to him that he never saw it when they brought him her tactical bag.

He vaults out of bed and runs to her closet, the last place he remembers seeing her bag. Opening the door sends a waft of her perfume into the room and he steels himself, focusing on the need to see that bloody keychain.

Her bag is sitting right where he shoved it, and he yanks it out onto the floor, looting through the contents. He freezes when he feels her batons before pulling them out and spinning them; he never did understand how to do it, but seeing them brings back memories of her pacing the apartment, twirling them mindlessly as she thought. A pained smile passes over his face as he puts them on the floor and sets her gun on top of them.

His fingers brush over her tacsuit and a sigh rattles in his chest. It’s soiled and it smells rotten, but it was the last thing she wore. Lance checks it over methodically, looking for something that would give him a hint of how she died.

His nightmares for the past five months had only consisted of ways in which she could’ve died. He doesn’t know what would be worse: knowing or not knowing. So far, not knowing had been hell.

Her suit is free of tears or rips, which rules out a gun or a knife. He finds soot, long since ingrained into the fabric, and his chest tightens as he thinks of her dying in a fire, in an explosion.

Lance shoves the thought out of his mind, focusing back on the keychain, and he feels around for the pocket she’d sewn in. It wasn’t much larger than the keychain itself; just big enough for her to slide it in securely and keep it on her body during a mission. Bobbi had always said that the solid circle on her hip acted as an anchor during the rough missions. The pocket is still intact and he sighs in relief, letting the suit fall to the floor.

They had a rule about the keychain. One would always return it to the other after a mission. If just the keychain came back, it meant that they’d found someone they trusted enough to ask that it be returned; it was a worst-case scenario.

But the keychain hadn’t come back, which could mean that Bobbi is still alive.

For the first time in five months, he doesn’t feel empty inside. He grabs his phone off the nightstand and walks into the living room, dialing Izzy’s number.

“Why th’fuck are you calling?” Izzy grumbles into the phone as he leaps over the back of the couch.

“Iz, I never got the keychain,” he says excitedly and she groans in response.

“I’m sorry? Hunter, it’s three in the morning, christ almighty, could this not have waited?”

“You know what it means, Izzy.” He hears fabric rustle and a grunt, and he guesses she’s probably getting out of bed.

“You’re delusional,” she responds and he frowns.

“It’s possible that she’s still out th-.”

“We’ve been over this a million times. There’s no way in h-.”

“Izzy, they never told me how or where or even when she died,” Lance says, effectively cutting her off. It’s quiet for half a minute before she responds.

“You know that’s classif-.”

“Classified, yeah, like I haven’t heard that word enough in the past five months,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I have some hope my wife is still out there. Am I going to go about this by myself or are you going to help me?” Her end is completely silent and he checks to make sure that the call hadn’t been dropped.

“Lance, you need to let go. She’s not coming back.” The call ends and he’s trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Izzy rarely calls him by his first name, but telling him to move on? That’s something out of left field.

He would do this on his own then, because, for the first time since he got the call saying she had died, he felt like he had a purpose again.

-

Bobbi doesn’t know why she hasn’t checked sooner. She didn’t even think that someone would be calling her old phone, let alone leaving messages. She got an email notification that said her mailbox was nearly full, which was odd because she never kept voicemails. She’s in her Shield-issued bunk using a burner phone she picked up at the drugstore, since she’s not sure that Fury would be fully on board with this.

_“You have fifty two unheard messages. First message.”_ She feels all the air leave her lungs in a rush at how many messages she has. She’d only been “dead” for five and a half months, who the hell could’ve called her?

_“Hi, love. I know you’re on your mission right now, but just thought I’d call to say I love you. Come home safe, I’ll be waiting.”_ The call ends and Bobbi can’t catch her breath. She hadn’t heard his voice in so long. He sounds warm and inviting, and she wants nothing more than to wrap herself in his arms, just one last time.

She has to push on, for him.

_“Hey Bob. Just checking in. You were supposed to be home four hours ago, and… Nah, I’m probably just being dumb. Don’t die out there, yeah?”_ A wave of tears rolls down her cheeks and she sobs into her hand.

_“It’s been two days and no one is telling me a goddamn thing. I feel like I'm losing my bloody mind."_ There's a long break and she thinks the message is over when he finally speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. _"Please come home."_ She drops the phone to the mattress and wipes at her eyes furiously. The timestamp on the next one is hours after the previous one, and she just knows what it’s going to be. Her stomach turns to lead as she presses play.

It’s silent. Bobbi actually checks to make sure it’s playing. She can't even hear his breathing, but she waits it out because it's Lance.

The message is nearing the end when suddenly something is pulled off a table and then glass shatters in the background. A gasp catches in her throat and her hand flies to her mouth.

_"Fuck,"_ she hears him whisper brokenly and her entire being hurts. The call disconnects and, for what must be the millionth time, she regrets her decision.

The next seven messages are of him sobbing. There’s one that lasts nearly three minutes and she cries with him, hugging her legs to her chest.

She doesn’t know what’s worse: him drinking until he blacks out, or him sobbing without her there to wrap her arms around him to comfort him. Both of them hurt her equally as much and she hates that she caused this. A part of her wants to stop because listening to him break down is the worst hell she's known; another part wants to keep listening, just to see how he’s doing.

_“I don’t know how to keep doing this.”_ He sounds as hollow as she feels inside. There’s the sound of liquid hitting glass and she lies back on her mattress, shutting her eyes. All she can hear is the sound of him swallowing, and she can picture it so clearly in her mind. _“’m sorry, I don’t know why the fuck I thought this would be a good idea,”_ he slurs and she turns on her side, bring her legs up to her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers in response, knowing that it’s not going to make any of this better.

Eventually, the messages don’t consist of sobbing or drinking. He starts talking to her about what’s going on in his life and how he misses her, the latter coming up at least once in every call.

She gets it down to four unheard messages when there’s an obvious change in his tone.

_“What happened to the keychain? God, I know, I’m asking your voicemail, it’s not going to get me any answers, but. I can’t find it. It was never returned to me with your bag.”_ Her hand flies to the chain on her neck, where she keeps the keychain when she’s not on a mission. She hadn’t even thought twice about it. Everything they’ve ever said about it comes rushing back and she curses inwardly.

_“I just got off the phone with Izzy and she said I’m delusional. And maybe I am. But now I have even more questions than I did before, and I’m going to start looking for some goddamn answers.”_ The message ends and she grips the metal circle tightly in her hand, so tempted to rip it off her neck and throw it across the room. He was supposed to be healing, dammit. It was the only reason she’d stopped checking on him; because maybe if she tried to get better, he would too.

The last message was left thirteen hours ago, around two in the morning. The later the message, the better chance there was of him being drunk, and she’s not ready to face this. She presses play and, sure enough, there’s the telltale sign of an empty glass hitting the table.

_“I keep wondering if I’m the reason you didn’t come back. If it was something I did.”_ Bobbi didn’t know it was possible for her heart to break anymore, but this message proved that wrong.

_“Shield’s public records are absolute shit. It’s like trying to make sense of a story written by a kindergartener.”_ She doesn’t even want to know what those files look like, but she can guess. Any page is most likely black from top to bottom, with spaces for a few words, maybe a whole sentence if there wasn’t anything too important.

_“They’re useless. There’s nothing on you. Hell, according to records, you don’t even exist. It’s like you just vanished into thin air,”_ he says into the glass and she sits up as her heart tries to beat out of her chest. _“I’m going to keep looking, but sometimes I wonder if Izzy was right. If all this pain will be worth it.”_

_“End of unheard messages,”_ the electronic voice drones in her ear and she slowly places the phone on the bed next to her as she stares at the blank wall across from her.

“What have I done?” she asks to the empty room, not even fully aware of what answer she wants in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from [the harold song](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/keha/theharoldsong.html) (all of the songs i'm using for chapter titles are in my playlist for this song. which i should post soon probably).


	4. i’m reaching out to you, can you hear my call?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten months pass by and Bobbi’s started to loathe the organization she works for.

Ten months pass by and Bobbi’s started to loathe the organization she works for. Fury never told her why it was absolutely necessary for her to disappear. She’s had more than enough doubts about the stealth operations she’s sent on, if it was necessary for her to no longer exist, and it’s left her with a bitter taste in her mouth.

She’s debated quitting more times than she can count on both hands. Hell, even if she had six hands, it still wouldn’t be enough. Every time she comes close to quitting, she’s reminded that if she quits SHIELD, it would mean that she gave up her life with Lance for nothing.

If she quits SHIELD, she will quite literally have nothing. No job, no friends or family, no place to call home. Bobbi thinks of him every time she thinks of quitting, and she uses him as her will to keep going. 

She realized a long time ago that SHIELD doesn’t give a damn about her, or any of their other agents, or people like Lance who've been hurt because of them. She knew that when she signed up, she just didn’t know what it truly meant at the time.

What do the needs of a few matter when compared to the needs of the whole world, right?

She stopped checking up on him, started taking more dangerous missions, riskier than the ones she took when she had someone waiting at home for her. Bobbi would rather lay her own life on the line than have someone else do it, who has a spouse and kids waiting for them. 

She made the decision to give that up; therefore, she’d make damn sure that other agents didn’t have to make the same choice she did.

-

It’s been a year and a half since Lance had to bury his wife, and now here he is, burying his best friends. He hangs the necklace in Jane’s car, watching it glint in the sunlight, thinking how it would’ve felt to have a concrete answer. 

He hasn’t stopped searching. Sure, Izzy had told him innumerable times to give up, that it wasn’t worth the pain, but something inside him pushed him to keep looking. He had reports that didn’t match up, files relating to her mission that had gone missing not long after, and the fact that everything about her final mission was redacted to the point of being useless.

Some days he wondered why he kept this up. He’d wake from a nightmare where she was screaming for him to save her from a slow, painful death, and he wondered if all of this was worth it.

He’d gotten into SHIELD; he was proud of that. He hadn’t joined because it seemed like a worthy cause, no. His reason for joining was purely selfish; being a SHIELD agent meant he could use a higher security clearance level his hands on more information, instead of what was available in the public access files. Sure, it had slowly morphed into something more, but his initial action was still driven by his ambition to find Bobbi. 

Jane nearly looks his direction as he shuts the door and he ducks behind the car, leaning up against the sun-warmed metal. Coulson walks over to him, tilts his head in askance.

“Breaking into cars now?” 

“Following up on a promise,” he responds, getting to his feet.

-

Lance’s chest has been feeling tight ever since the second anniversary of her death rolled around. The team hadn’t even questioned why he’d requested a day of leave, and he was thankful; he still hasn’t spilled the details of his past, and he’s not sure if he wants to.

The third wedding anniversary without her is coming up and he knows he’s going to need yet another day off. He’ll probably spend it the same way he spent the first and the second anniversary: drunk in the bar across from their old apartment. He doesn’t know why he kept the bloody place, but something nags at the back of his mind every time he even thinks about moving out.

Maybe it’s because that place was where he spent his last day with her. Maybe it’s because he still hasn’t gone through her belongings. Whatever the reason, it means he has a place to crash when he needs a day off.

The team’s off in Guatemala investigating another 0-8-4. Normally, he’d be out there with them, but he requested that he stay back. Coulson didn’t object, didn’t question, just said the team would make do, and that a second set of hands on base during such an important mission wouldn’t be a bad thing.

He’s supposed to be looking for a file marked with some hieroglyphs, but he’s found nothing in the five boxes to his left. In looking through all these files, he’s noticed that some date back to when SHIELD was founded, while others are more recent. He found one that was about a mission from two days ago, and he wonders who the hell is even in charge of organizing this room.

Nonetheless, he keeps looking. He grabs another box and pulls the lid off, sighing as he looks upon more manila folders. There’s a mint green folder in the midst of all the beige, and he pulls it out, curious to see what a different color might mean.

It’s clear from the first page that this file should not even be in this room. Maybe it got mixed in with all the other files, but this one obviously belongs in Coulson’s office. He shuts it, setting it aside to bring it back up with the file Coulson actually needs.

It takes another half hour and three more boxes of searching before he finds the file with the hieroglyphs, thrusting it into the air with a little whoop of joy. He snatches up the green folder as he leaves, placing it on top of the other before sticking them under his arm.

Lance is just nearly back to Coulson’s office when a SHIELD scientist rounds the corner too quickly, not looking where he’s going, and bumps into him. The files slip out of his arm, papers scattering all over the floor. The man looks distressed at the scene in front of him and Lance sighs as he bends to pick up the folders.

“You go, I’ve got this.” The scientist thanks him as he walks away, already poking almost violently at his tablet. Lance shakes his head as he grabs the sheets of paper. It’s easy to tell which papers came from which folder; the ones Coulson asked for have written-in margins, worn edges, and more hieroglyphs throughout the document, while the ones from the green folder are fresh and clean.

He’s about to shut the green folder when two words catch his eye, and he tips over onto the floor ungracefully as he scrambles for the file. Lance is breathing shallowly as he backs up against the wall, eyes wide in shock as he stares at the document. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, staring at those two little words, but Coulson eventually appears at the end of the hallway.

“Hunter, are you okay?” he asks as he approaches Lance.

“This report mentions Agent 19,” he says numbly, pointing out the name. Coulson twists his head to look and nods.

“Yes, it appears this is about her most recent mission.” His head snaps up and it feels like the world has dropped out from underneath him.

“Her? Recent mission?”

“Hunter, what's gotten into you?”

“What is the name of Agent 19?”

“Barbara Morse. Agent Hunter, what is this about?” Lance feels his throat close up, finger shaking as he points at the paper.

"That was the name of my wife.”

The next thing he knows, he’s in Coulson’s office, still clutching the file tightly in his hands. He can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears, and he’s still trying to comprehend that this report is from two weeks ago.

There’s a hand in front of his face suddenly, reaching for the file, and jerks back violently, clutching it to his chest.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Coulson says calmly, pulling his hands back and holding them up defensively. “Can you tell me what’s going through your mind right now?”

“I was married to Bobbi but... she died on a mission. I thought,” he stammers, pulling the file back to reread her name. “Why is she listed as an agent on a current op?”

“Your name wasn’t in her file,” Coulson mutters to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face and Lance looks up.

“What?”

“The majority of her file was restricted, even before I became director, which means Fury had something to do with this.” He sighs and Lance rests his elbows on his thighs, burying his face in his free hand. Coulson’s still trying to piece everything together when Lance leans back in his chair, setting the file on the empty chair.

“She’s still alive." His heart races as his brain processes the words that left his mouth and he brings his hand up to cover his eyes. “God, it’s been two years,” he practically sobs and he pushes himself out of the chair.

Lance paces the length of the room with a hand pressed to his mouth. He’s still trying to process that he was right. After all this time, he was right. 

“Is there any way to contact her?” The words leave his mouth before he can think twice and he tenses up. Coulson walks around to his computer, pulling up her file, and Lance has never felt more terrified. Maybe she had good reasons for disappearing; maybe she doesn’t want to be found. 

“Her number’s listed.” Lance doesn’t know how to react and Coulson’s staring at him, waiting for an answer. He can’t _not_ try; it's been two long years and he still loves her with every fiber of his being. “I could make the call.”

Lance nods as his stomach turns to lead and Coulson picks up the phone, glancing at the computer screen as he punches in her number.

It's deathly quiet in the office and he can hear it ringing softly. It rings once, twice, and then he's running through the halls, his heart trying to beat out of his chest.

-

Bobbi's entering a code into the security pad next to her door when her phone rings, _Director_ flashing across the screen.

“Hello, Director. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Agent Morse, I have a few questions about your history. Mind if we talk?”

“Of course, let me just put some things down.” She drapes her tacsuit over the chair, setting her staves on top, and moves to sit on her bed. “Alright, what've you got?”

“Why is your file restricted, even to me?” he asks and she grows quiet, digging her nails into her thigh.

“I'm sorry sir, but I can't tell you that.”

“Agent Morse, something involving your past has come up.” She's silent for a moment, mind racing with a million different situations. 

“How so?”

“One of my agents saw your name in a misfiled report, and they believe they know you.” Her face screws up in confusion and she sits up straighter.

“Who?”

“It's Hunter.” She feels the blood drain from her face, heartbeat picking up speed as her phone slides out of her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i gotta remember to update this more often wHOOPS ;-; 
> 
> if you want an earlier update, seriously just yell at me to do it and i will. and feedback is always appreciated x
> 
> title: lay me down by sam smith


	5. i'm gonna find my way back to your side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbi has been strapped into the damn quinjet for nearly three hours and she feels sick to her stomach. There's still at least a half hour left of the flight and she simultaneously wants to get off the damn thing _and_ stay on it indefinitely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this update's a bit longer because there's just not a good place to cut it? 
> 
> also this snuck up on me wow wasn't expecting to be _here_ already.

Lance doesn't know where he is, doesn't even know how he even got there. He's outside though, legs dangling off the edge, so he's assuming he's on the roof. His hands have stopped shaking and he's not shuddering with every inhale and exhale.

He's been watching giant puffy clouds roll through the sky, trying not to think too hard about everything. He doesn't quite know what's real anymore; all he cares about is the fact that his wife is alive.

Coulson sits down next to him, lets his legs hang off and rests his arms on the metal rail. “I talked to her,” he says casually, and Lance exhales in a rush and tries to think of a response.

“She has expressed an interest in seeing you. It's your choice.” The words leave Coulson's mouth and a million different emotions wash over him. Unbridled joy, love, relief, and fear.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and it feels like a giant weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

“I'll let her know. Meanwhile, scan the file I originally wanted and send it to the team. I'll grant you temporary access to her files, if you'd like to read up on what she's been doing.” Lance nods as Coulson stands and walks back inside.

Lance is still trying to come to terms with the fact that she's still alive, never mind that she wants to see him; he's never felt more excited and terrified in his entire life.

-

Bobbi has been strapped into the damn quinjet for nearly three hours and she feels sick to her stomach. There's still at least a half hour left of the flight and she simultaneously wants to get off the damn thing _and_ stay on it indefinitely.

She has no idea how Lance is doing, hasn't had one for the past year and a few months. How was she to expect him to move on when she wasn't? That didn't meant she had though; she didn't let herself get attached anymore. It was less painful that way, if anything ever happened to her. 

But now she's on her way to see him face-to-face, for the first time in two years, and there's no denying that she still loves him. Hell, he's the reason she works so damn hard. If she failed, then giving up a life with him would've been all for nothing.

Coulson didn't tell her much about him; all she knew was that he was a SHIELD agent now, and that surprised her. She never thought he'd join the organization that took her from him.

She's still trying to figure out why he agreed to see her. He should hate her for everything she did, and she wouldn't blame him if he did. 

Bobbi's close to unbuckling her straps and pacing the cabin when the pilot turns back and shouts, “Ten minutes 'til we land, Agent Morse.” She huffs a sigh and reaches for the chain tucked under the collar her sweater. The ring clacks noisily against the keychain as she pulls them out to stare at them fondly, tracing the letters with her thumb.

Her stomach twists violently and she lets her head fall against the headrest, absentmindedly spinning the ring back and forth as she closes her eyes. The quinjet slows down and she knows they must be above the base.

“Descending,” the pilot calls out and Bobbi takes a deep breath, trying to keep her heartbeat steady. She bounces her leg and clutches her necklace tightly, and then the wheels touch down. The engines turn off and she undoes the straps across her chest with shaking hands before tucking the chain safely back into her shirt.

Hefting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she stands and moves to the top of the ramp. She looks back and nods, and the pilot gives her a thumbs up as he flips a switch, lowering the ramp door.

Nothing in her life has terrified her more as the sluggishly descending ramp.

She suddenly finds it very hard to catch her breath as soon as the top of his head comes into view. And then his face, his gaze roaming up her body, taking every inch of her in.

Lance’s familiar brown eyes meet hers and she locks up completely, not sure how he’s going to react. The air visibly shudders out of him in a quick exhale and something inside her breaks.

Bobbi drops her bag without a second thought and runs toward him, throws herself at him, almost knocking them both to the ground. Her arms wrap tightly around his neck and she gasps as an overwhelming feeling of _home_ washes over her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing at the rightness of everything, and then he’s pulling her closer to his body than she ever thought possible.

It has been two long years of her trying to find a place in the world without him, but not even two seconds back in his arms and she realizes that she had been in the right place all along.

She feels his tears splash on her neck and she hugs him even tighter, turning her head to press her lips hard against his scruffy cheek. Lance whimpers and she squeezes her eyes shut, tears leaking out as she pulls back just enough to kiss his temple, his forehead, his nose, his jawline, and then finally his lips. He sobs and clutches her sides harder, almost to the point of pain, but she doesn’t care. 

Cutting off the kiss, Lance walks them backwards until his back meets a wall. His hands slide down to the backs of her thighs and she jumps as he lifts, legs wrapping around his waist. She clings to him tightly as he carefully sits down and settles her in his lap. Bobbi cries even harder as she cups his face in her hands, still trying to believe that this is real, that she has him back once more.

-

Time seems to come to a standstill as they sit against the wall, wrapped up in each other. Every inch of them is pressed against one another and he’s crying into her shoulder, chest heaving with each shaky breath. She’s cradling his head in her hands, holding him close, her forehead pressed to his temple as tears stream down her cheeks.

Bobbi notices her bag sitting by their feet and she wonders how it got there for a brief second, but she’s distracted by his hands gripping her waist tighter, sure to leave bruises. She finds that she doesn’t care as she cards her fingers through his hair, cut shorter on the sides than she was used to. 

She sniffles as the tears finally stop falling, and she takes one hand off the back of his head and pulls her sleeve over her fist. Lance stops her, fingers curling around her wrist, and she looks in his eyes. He lets go and brings his hand up to her cheek, brushing her tears away with his thumb.

Something that sounds like a laugh and a sob escapes past her lips, and a teary grin spreads across his face. Someone clears their throat off to the side, and Bobbi whips her head around to look.

“Hunter, if you’d like some vacation time-.” Lance cuts the Director off with a shake of his head and Bobbi smooths her fingers down the side of his face.

“No,” he croaks and she can feel tears welling up again, just from the sound of his voice. “But I would like to take her home for the night.” Coulson nods and tells him the quinjet is at his disposal, just for the night, before exiting the hangar.

“I’m already home,” she manages to whisper and his breath hitches in his throat. He grins from ear to ear as he cups her jaw and pulls her face to his, kissing her softly.

“I’m never letting you go,” he says against her lips and she nods fervently, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. “Never again.”

-

Bobbi can't hide her surprise when the quinjet descends on top of their old apartment building. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she lifts her head off his shoulder.

"You kept it?" He shrugs and she leans her forehead against his temple, stroking her thumb along the side of his finger. 

"Something always held me back. And anyway, never got around to going through your stuff." The ramp starts to lower and he squeezes the arm around her waist before moving her off his lap.

They really should've been strapped in separately, but two years is a long time and they've got a lot to catch up on. They haven't stopped touching since she ran into his arms; she's forgotten how he smelled, how he he felt under her fingertips. Coulson can chew her ass out later for all she cares.

Lance stands, grabs her duffel off the floor, and tugs her after him as he makes for the ramp. As they walk through the door, she lifts their joined hands, pressing the back of his hand to her lips. 

A sigh shudders out of him and he leans into her, hitching the bag up higher on his shoulder as they take the stairs. Ever since her skin brushed against his, she's felt more alive than she has in the last two years. Her heart starts to race as he pulls her out of the stairwell and into the hallway.

It hasn't changed since the day she left and her chest twinges painfully; she thinks of that day before she can stop herself, and she freezes in the middle of the hallway.

She's lost in thought when suddenly his hand is cupping her cheek and his face is right in front of hers. He grips her hand tighter and the side of her mouth quirks up as her eyes refocus. 

"Bobbi, what's wrong?" Lance asks quietly, thumb stroking over her smooth cheek. She blinks, trying to will away the tears that sprung up out of nowhere, and leans into his touch.

"I started thinking back..." She shrugs, biting the inside of her lip as she shakes her head slightly, looking down at the ground.

"Hey, it's okay. That's-." He stops himself as he sees how upset she's become. "It's in the past. We can't change that. But there's a lot of future ahead of us." Bobbi looks up at him with a sad smile.

"You still want a future? With me?" she chokes out and his lips curve as he nods.

"It was hell to imagine one without you. But you're back, and I'm dead serious about not letting you go." She sniffles, scrunching her nose up, and she tugs on his wrist, pulling his face toward hers.

Lance sighs as she kisses him softly, her hand sliding down to the crook of his elbow. She's the one to pull back and he nearly stumbles forward as he tries to follow her. Bobbi snorts and gently presses her lips to his once more. 

He finally takes a step back, dropping his hand from her cheek to grab the keys out of his pocket. "Ready?" She nods, not trusting her voice, and she grips his hand tighter as he sticks the key in the lock and twists.

"Welcome home," he murmurs against her temple and everything feels good and perfect and right.

-

“How many people knew you were alive?” he asks and she sighs as he laces his fingers with hers.

“Anywhere from 20 to 50.” Lance turns to her with a sad look.

“That’s it?” Bobbi shrugs and shuffles closer into his body. 

“No one could know, Lance. The agents who knew I was alive were clearance level 7, and they were only told because they were my strike team. And then I had a handler, and he was careful to protect my name.” He fiddles with her hand while she talks, tracing over the lines on her palm with his thumb. She huffs through her nose, pillowing her head on his shoulder. “Fury wanted to make sure that I'd be the perfect black ops agent.” Her lips curve into a bitter smile and she shakes her head.

“I fucked up,” she whispers and he sits up, twisting his upper body toward her.

“Hey. Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s true though,” she mumbles, staring at their hands. “I made the decision-.”

“Which wasn't one you should've had to make in the first place.” She cranes her neck to look up at him and he squeezes her hand.

“But I did. And it was the worst decision of my life.”

“Does that mean marrying me became the second worst decision?” he jokes, but it falls flat and Bobbi swallows thickly, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she chokes out and he lifts his other hand to cup her cheek, shaking his head fervently as she nods. “I am. You deserve so much better, and I'm so sorry I put you through that.”

“Bob, listen to me. You never should've been given that ultimatum.” Lance untangles his fingers from hers and slides his hand along her arm, up to her shoulder, and pushes lightly until she gets the idea. She turns, lying so she can rest her chin on his chest. 

His thumb sweeps over the swell of her cheek, fingers curling under the line of her jaw, and Bobbi exhales in a rush. “I chose my job over you, again, and look where it got us.”

“Stop beating yourself up over that,” he responds and she shuts her eyes as he grabs for her hand with his free one. “None of that matters to me anymore. I never thought I'd see you again. And now…” Lance trails off and shrugs his shoulders as she opens her eyes again. “I don't care.”

She turns her head to the side and relaxes against him, staring off into space as her mind races. Bobbi doesn't know if she'll ever be able to forgive herself for all she did; but he can, and so easily. And maybe it gives her a little hope for the future.

-

It’s getting harder and harder to keep her eyelids open when Lance finally stands and takes her hands with a smile. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.” She hums and lets herself be pulled up, immediately wrapping her arms around his neck. Bobbi sighs happily as he hugs her tightly, lifting her off the ground. A giggle escapes past her lips before she can stop it and she’s dropped back to the floor, his hand coming up to cup her face, thumb skimming over the full roundness of her cheek.

“I’ve missed that laugh,” he murmurs and she grins wider before leaning in to kiss him, squeezing her arms around his neck. He chuckles against her lips before pulling back. “But seriously, you need to sleep.”

“As do you,” she responds, tracing along the dark circles under his eyes with a featherlight touch. 

“I bet I’ll sleep better tonight,” he says and the corner of her mouth quirks up. He tilts his head back toward the bedroom and she pulls her arms back, trailing them down over his arms. He tangles her fingers with his at the last minute as he steps backward, tugging her behind him.

It’s been so long since she walked this once familiar hallway. The walls she used to shove him up against as he pulled at her clothes. The floor worn thin from where he used to pace, waiting for her to come home safely. The hall closet where they used to keep the first aid kit, which he had to pull out several times when she came home before she visited SHIELD Medical. The doorknob that’s given both her and Lance nasty bruises from where it collided with their skin as they were pressed up against the door by one another. 

He pushes the door open and all the air leaves her body in a rush. Their bedroom has not changed since the last time she saw it. Same layout, same wall color, same fucking comforter that they picked out however many years ago. Bobbi nearly stumbles over her feet as he pulls her inside and she crashes into his body gently.

“You okay?” he chuckles and she turns her head to meet his gaze, nodding.

“I’m fine, just.” Bobbi pauses, trying to find the right words. “Wasn’t expecting it to be the same.”

“I couldn’t change it. Not when there was so much of you in this room,” he says casually, moving to take his shirt off but she stops him, hands gentle on his waist.

“Can I?” He nods silently and she slowly tugs the shirt upward, eyes roaming over all the new skin that's exposed. She gets the shirt off and he lightly holds her wrists while they're still in the air, sliding his fingers down her arms, over her shoulders and back, until he's pulling at the hem of her shirt.

“Can I?” he asks, parroting her previous words, and she nods while exhaling shakily. His fingers skim over her skin as he lifts the shirt off and over her head, letting it fall to the ground as his hands rest on her shoulders.

She’s the first one to move, sliding her hands down from his rib cage to his belt buckle. She undoes the button and the zip while he leans forward to press his lips to her shoulders in lazy, close-mouthed kisses.

She pushes until the pants fall on their own and moves her hands to his arms, a soft smile playing at the edge of her lips. He straightens, glides his fingers down her sides, and she huffs a quiet laugh at the tickling sensation.

He repeats her previous action, sighing as his hands curve over her hips while he pushes the denim down. She kicks her jeans across the room and turns while he slides his hands back up her body. She pulls her hair to one side, and he inhales sharply as he realizes what she's asking.

“Not like that, just for sleep,” she murmurs, sensing his hesitation. She may be ecstatic to be back with him, but she's not ready for that yet either.

His fingers shake as he undoes the clasp, eyes focused on the ends quickly snapping back toward her. He traces over the knots of her spine while she pulls her bra off, bending down to the ground as she drops it. 

She straightens up as she turns around, his shirt in her hand, holding it up questioningly. He nods quickly and she grins as she pulls his shirt over her head. The hem flutters around her hips and she tugs the collar up to her nose and takes a deep breath.

“I've missed this,” she whispers as she loops her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. 

“What’ve you missed?” he replies with a grin, hands pushing at her back until her body is flush against his.

“Everything,” she responds, the words curving over his lips, and he smiles, leaning into to press his lips to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally posted [this thing](http://8tracks.com/bobbiimorses/lay-us-down-we-re-in-love) woooooo
> 
> title: ships in the night - mat kearney


	6. i can tell you there's no place we couldn't go

“Here.” He lifts his head off her shoulder to see her reaching into her pocket. She keeps whatever it is hidden as she takes his hand off her neck and brings it down to her lap. She bites the inside of her cheek as she drops the metal circle into his hand, watching for his reaction.

He exhales sharply as she lifts her hand back to clasp the other around his neck. “You kept it?” Bobbi shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes, a half smile gracing her lips.

“Nearly lost it once. Got a little too drunk and almost threw it into a river.” He looks up at her as he flips the keychain. “Woke up the next morning, and found it still in my hand.” He closes his fingers around it as he leans in.

He opens his mouth to say something but she’s quicker, tightening his arms and pulling him into a kiss, and she feels his lips curve into a smile. He places his fist, still holding the keychain, on her cheek and she laughs into his mouth. Lance breaks the kiss, turning his head, and she lets her forehead rest on his cheek, still laughing all the while.

“I love you,” he whispers and she trails off, smiling softly as she looks up at him.

“I love you too.”

-

They walk around the Playground, joined hands swinging between them as Lance gently guides her around, pointing out different rooms and corridors. They round a corner and find Coulson walking toward them.

“Agents Hunter and Morse. Just who I was looking for.”

“How can we help, sir?” Lance answers, standing straighter, and Bobbi has to bite down on the laugh threatening to bubble out. He used to poke fun at the way she’d act differently when it came to her job, and now here he was, doing the exact same thing.

“The team’s boarding the quinjet to return as we speak. So now would be a good time to discuss… All of this,” Coulson says, gesturing loosely to the pair. Bobbi stares straight ahead, a smile plastered on her face as she squeezes Lance’s hand, her nerves getting the better of her. Lance squeezes back, his thumb sweeping over hers, and gestures back down the hall.

“Your office, I’m assuming?” Coulson nods and turns on his heel, and Lance leans over, kissing Bobbi’s cheek before pulling her along. “Everything’ll be alright, love. Coulson’s nothing like Fury.”

Coulson sits, holding a hand out to the two chairs in front of his desk, and Lance lets go of Bobbi to take the far seat.

“First things first, Bobbi, welcome to the Playground. Chances are Agent Koenig will find you and make you a badge. I’m surprised he hasn’t already hounded you about getting one.” Lance snorts, leaning back in his chair.

“Everyone’s been a tad thrown off by seeing me with a woman around the base.” Bobbi rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, one corner of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile

“You? Mister ladies’ man, without a lady? What a shock.”

“Well, I’ve got the only one that ever mattered back.” She turns to look at Lance with a blinding grin. Coulson coughs after a few seconds and Bobbi immediately faces front, her cheeks tinged pink.

“As I was saying, you’ll need a badge, seeing as it’s unclear how long you’ll be staying here.”

“Yes. About that. I’d like to officially resign from being a field agent.”

“What?” Coulson asks, eyebrows raised high, as Lance sits up straight, mouth falling open.

“Bob-.”

“Let me explain.” Coulson nods and leans back in his chair, while Lance moves to the edge of his chair, body twisted fully towards her. “When I… made the choice to leave, I gave up everything. I only stayed with SHIELD because I didn’t want that decision to mean nothing.” 

Bobbi shrugs as she crosses one leg over the other. “And now that things are.. the way they are and, since Fury’s no longer in charge, I don’t feel the need to continue going out in the field, risking life and limb. Not when there’ll be someone waiting for me. Hopefully,” she quickly adds, glancing at Lance in time to see a wry grin spread across his face.

“I’m gonna have to keep reminding you that I’m going to stay by your side no matter what, aren’t I?” Bobbi reaches over, placing her hand on his forearm briefly before returning it back to her lap.

“But you’d still like to stay an agent?”

“Yes. Just, no fighting in the field. That’s my only condition.” She sighs, happy that the weight is finally off her chest. “Oh, and that I get to stay with him,” she says, tilting her head in Lance’s direction.

“And you, Hunter?” Coulson asks, clasping his hands as he turns to Lance.

“Still in the process of working things out, I guess. But yeah, still a field agent.” Bobbi feels her heart swell at how sure he is of himself. 

“So, Agent Morse, you’ll be staying here indefinitely?”

“If that’s alright,” she responds with a nod.

“Are you going to need a separate bunk?” Lance chuckles before Coulson even gets the entire sentence out, shaking his head. “Just as I thought. I’ll brief the team before they meet you, give them a short rundown of things. Anything I should or shouldn’t say?”

"Don't tell them why I left? At least not quite yet," Bobbi suggests and Lance nods his head in agreement. Coulson makes a note before telling them they're free to leave.

“Did you really mean everything you said in there?” Lance asks as they make their way to the common room. She slows down and leans against the wall, tugging him close. He stumbles into her, bracing his arms on either side of her head. 

“Yeah,” Bobbi says shyly as her hands fall to his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into his hips. “Of course I’d want to bunk with you.” She’s deflecting and he knows it. He raises an eyebrow and she sighs, looking down at her feet.

“Yes, I did. I considered leaving SHIELD. A lot. But every time I got close to Fury’s office, dead set on leaving, I thought of you.” She shrugs and his arm drops so he can brush his thumb over her cheek. The corners of her lips twitch down and he leans in closer.

“Bob, what’s wrong?” His fingers hook under her jaw so she’s looking at him.

“I hate being reminded of it,” she whispers, voice cracking as she speaks. Lance stares at her with sad eyes before he pulls her off the wall and into his arms. Her cheek rests on his shoulder and she places her hands in the space between his shoulder blades.

“I guess I’ll just have to keep your mind otherwise preoccupied.” Bobbi nods, closing her eyes as she relaxes into him. She feels his lips touch the tip of her nose and she scrunches her face up. He laughs, his body shaking with it, and she opens her eyes in time to catch him throwing his head back as he holds her tighter against him.

“Common room?” he asks after he’s calmed down and she nods, taking a half step backward. Lance reaches out for her hand and she laces their fingers with a grin, falling into step beside him.

-

“Hunter?” A young woman pokes her head into the common room and Lance’s hand stills in Bobbi’s hair, fingers curling into a fist around the strands. It tugs only a little but Lance’s nerves seem to have gotten to him finally.

“Glad to see you made it back safely. How’d it go?” he asks, sounding more forced than anything. The woman disappears again and Bobbi looks up at Lance. “She’s telling everyone what she found, no doubt.” Bobbi takes his hand out of her hair and holds it between hers, smoothing her thumb back and forth over his knuckles.

“Everything’s gonna be alright.” He knows she’s forcing the words out, but her smile is genuine and he exhales shakily as she kisses the base of his thumb. The woman walks into the room, this time joined by three others. Bobbi sits up immediately and scoots toward Lance, squeezing his hand painfully.

“You never answered my question,” Lance accuses teasingly and Bobbi can tell that he’s masking his nervousness, so she leans into him more until his shoulders drop.

“Yeah, that can wait. So, who’s this?” The young woman sits kitty-corner to Lance, head in her hands with a coy smile stretching across her face. 

“Bobbi,” he says, trying to keep his tone light as he pointedly ignores the woman, “this is Skye. Jemma is the one sitting at the table while Fitz makes enough tea for the two of them, as per usual after a mission. And Trip’s the bloke leaning against the wall over there.” Trip lifts his hand in a little wave and Bobbi feels oddly calmed by it.

“You lot, this is…” He trails off as he wracks his brain for the right words.

“I’m Bobbi,” she answers for him, knocking her knee against his. She sees his cheeks turn just slightly pink and Skye gasps dramatically.

“You made Hunter blush? Who the hell are you?” Skye leans forward even more, barely balancing on the couch anymore, and Bobbi’s a little impressed. She turns to Lance, trying to figure out how to answer Skye’s question; this wasn’t exactly something they’d thought to discuss. His expression softens and she can feel her anxiety melting away.

“She’s my wife.” Bobbi can’t hide her grin at those three little words and her eyes start to water. Jemma makes a contented hum as Fitz hands her a mug and takes a seat next to her.

“Man, you never told us you were married,” Trip interjects, climbing over the back of the couch, sitting on the other side of Skye. 

“Yeah, what the hell is that about?” Lance opens his mouth to respond when someone new appears in the doorway. Bobbi glances up and she's on her feet in a flash, frozen in place. She squeezes Lance's hand and he looks, exhaling sharply when he sees who it is.

"Barbara?" Mack says in a broken voice and Bobbi runs to him, planting a foot on the armrest of the couch and using it to launch herself at him.

"Don't start with that," she whispers into his shoulder, and he makes a noise that sounds like the combination of a sob and laugh before wrapping his arms around her neck and holding her close.

"How on earth-."

"Fury had more secrets than anyone knew what to do with," she responds, cutting him off. He nods, drops his arms, and she takes a step back, wiping at her cheeks. Mack gives her a once over and she wants to wrap her arms around herself, feeling more self-conscious than ever.

"You still look good though." He places his hand on her shoulder, and she covers it with one of her own.

The chatter around the room finally reaches her ears and she looks around slowly. The pair in the corner (Jemma and Fitz, she reminds herself) has separated, and Mack goes to join Fitz after squeezing her shoulder gently; Jemma's perched on the armrest of the couch, sipping from her mug and listening as Skye rattles off question after question.

Lance seems a bit dazed by everything that's happened in the short amount of time, and he looks exactly how she feels. Her insides twist as she walks back around to take a seat next to Lance. He laces their fingers together immediately, before she's even sitting, and her heart stops trying to beat its way out of her chest.

Leaning into him, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, feeling the air fill her lungs before letting it out slowly. Bobbi opens her eyes and finds Skye staring at the pair of them with sparkling eyes.

Bobbi can already feel that this is going to be a long day.

-

"Skye can be a bit much, I know." Lance's hand on her lower back is the only thing holding her together as he guides her back to his bunk ( _their bunk_ , she reminds herself and her heart skips a beat). “The novelty of a shiny new thing’ll wear off soon enough.”

He lifts his badge to the scanner next to the doorknob and walks her inside. "I've gotta run to the bathroom but I'll be right back, yeah?" Bobbi turns and nods, wrapping her arms around herself. He smiles and kisses her cheek before shutting the door behind him as he leaves. 

She faces the room again and looks around. For a SHIELD-issue bunk, it’s nicer than any she’d seen previously. The lamp in the corner covers the walls in a soft warm glow that makes the space seem more open and inviting, unlike the cold fluorescent lights in her old bunk. The bed actually has a comforter and dark sheets, and she’s impressed by those last two things alone.

Everything starts to feel way too close for her liking, and Bobbi moves to sit at the foot of the bed. Time ticks on slowly and a knot starts to form in her stomach. She hugs her sides tighter in hopes that her nerves would die down, but it just gets worse and worse.

It takes her a second to realize the wheezing she hears is coming from her own mouth. The walls start to vibrate and she breathes shallowly, chest feeling unusually tight. There’s a beep across the room and she whips her head around as the door swings open. 

“Glad to see you’ve made yourself…” Lance trails off when he sees her wide eyes and leans against the door to shut it. “Bobbi?”

“I-I. I can’t-,” she stutters, barely above a whisper, and he rushes over to her, gathering her up in his arms. His skin slides against hers and the ball of nerves in her stomach fades away instantly. He lifts her up and settles her back in his lap once he’s seated, and she curls her arms around his shoulders.

“Bobbi, what’s-.”

“I don’t know,” she says, cutting him off. Her cheek presses against a wet patch on his shirt and she realizes she’s been crying. “I was fine and then-.” He shushes her as his hand smooths over her back, rocking her back and forth gently.

“Breathe, love. You’re going to be okay. I’m here.” She sniffles and fists her hands in his shirt, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. A sob escapes past her lips as Lance cups her cheek.

“I’m here.”

-

Lance huffs softly and curls into her stomach, and she curves her palm over the back of his neck. His arm tightens around her waist and he mumbles incoherently as he relaxes even further. 

She'd spent two years forgetting what it was like to sleep with another person in her bed. Falling asleep was easy, she never had any trouble with that.

It was the waking up. 

In her old bunk, she'd roll over, expecting to feel warm, familiar muscles, but she was met with cold sheets and empty space that made her chest ache.

Her first days waking up next to Lance had been interesting, to say the least. She'd wake up and not expect anyone to be there, and then he _was._ She was always hit with innumerable emotions that she couldn't even put her finger on, and she'd just cling tighter to him until she remembered how to breathe.

Bobbi doesn't know how she got so lucky. If anything, Lance should be the one dealing with the issues that came with finding out she's alive. She's known about all of this for so long that it shouldn't affect her nearly as much as it does.

Being away from him hurts. Physically hurts. She doesn't understand it, but as soon as he's not in her immediate line of sight, her chest tightens and it feels like she can't catch her breath.

Lance groans brokenly in his sleep, drawing her out of her thoughts, and he squints as he wakes up. He's sleepy and relaxed for another minute, squeezing her tighter. 

She laughs quietly and he immediately tenses up, and then he's jumping out of bed, hands outstretched toward her, as if he's going to grab her. She can see the exact moment everything seems to click, and he stumbles backward, sagging against the wall.

Bobbi doesn't go to him; she knows he needs to be the one to initiate that contact again. She simply moves to the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor while she waits. She doesn't know how much time has passed when he finally crawls over to her feet and rests his head against her knees.

He's shaking slightly, but there's color in his cheeks and his eyes don't look so haunted. She runs her fingers through his hair and he slumps into her.

“I got you,” she whispers, letting her other hand fall to cup his cheek. "You're safe."

“You died,” he croaks and her heart clenches. “And it’s the same nightmare I’ve had for two fucking years.” 

“I’m here now,” she chokes out, throat growing thick with emotion. He looks up at her with unshed tears in his eyes and she musters a smile. “I’ll never leave.” He lifts his hand to her wrist, thumb resting over her pulse, and a breath shakes out of him.

She bends forward and curls her arm around his head, holding him close. “Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title: _mirrors_ \- justin timberlake
> 
> i keep meaning to update this but i just need someone to hit me over the head with reminders tbh oops
> 
> also, i kept her name as skye bc this is an au of pre-canon, and so i made the choice to not go with the inhumans arc (and trip is not dead because no).


	7. would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Bobbi’s sitting with her legs thrown over Lance’s lap when Skye walks into the common room, tapping away at a tablet with a confused look. 

“Hey Hunter, can you come give me a hand down in the garage?” Bobbi stiffens at Skye’s question, knows he feels her reaction, and he tries to think of a response. There’s a huff of annoyance and Bobbi can feel the tips of her ears burning. 

“You’ve been glued to her side for the whole damn week, three minutes won’t kill you.” The blood drains from Bobbi’s face at her words and Lance squeezes her hand.

“What is up with you two anyway? I’ve never seen a married couple so inseparable. You’d think you’d get sick of each other sooner or later,” Skye mutters as she grabs a water bottle. 

“I thought she was dead for two years,” Lance says after a moment of silence. The air in the room suddenly feels thick and cloying, and Bobbi focuses on her hand in his as she takes deep breaths.

“Holy shit,” Skye breathes before slapping a hand over her mouth. A pained chuckle escapes from Bobbi’s lips as she leans her forehead against Lance’s cheek.

“Wha-. How-.” Skye stammers out the beginnings of a million questions, not quite sure what she wants to say.

“Maybe it’s time to tell them?” Bobbi asks, bumping her knee against his chest. Lance heaves a sigh and pulls back to look her in the eye.

“You sure?” She nods, sliding her legs off his lap. “Alright then. Gather everyone?” He looks at Skye over his shoulder as he stands, tugging Bobbi up with him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll just-.” She hooks her thumb toward the door and leaves immediately, tablet forgotten on the table.

“What are we gonna tell them?” he asks to no one in particular and she shrugs.

“We’ll just be honest.” Lance looks at her fondly before kissing her cheek, a faint smile on his lips. She grins back at him, lightly swinging their joined hands between their bodies.

“This is going to go so badly,” he groans after a second, laughing as he lets his head fall against her shoulder.

“You’re probably not wrong.”

-

In the days after they told the team, everyone was careful to make sure that they could stick together. Fitz seemed to understand the best and didn't ask much of Lance at all, although Bobbi did enjoy that she had the pleasure of watching Fitz kick his ass at Mario Kart (that also meant she got to kiss him and sit in his lap to make him feel better, which they _both_ enjoyed).

Coulson's mainly asked Lance to read over incoming files and report on anything that seemed out of the ordinary (more so than a typical file) or if it was something that needed immediate attention. 

Bobbi's been keeping occupied with catching up on books. She never really allowed herself any free time and, now that all she has is free time, she might as well enjoy it. She's always been a sucker for classic literature, and Trip lent her some she hadn't gotten her hands on yet.

She's resting her head on Lance's thigh, reading through _Fahrenheit 451_ while he skims over files on a tablet when Jemma finds them.

"Bobbi?" She closes her book and stretches her legs, groaning quietly when they crack.

"Yeah?" Jemma runs a hand through her hair as she looks at the ground and Bobbi sits up. "What's wrong?"

"What? No, nothing wrong!" she assures Bobbi quickly. "Just-. Coulson said you had a background in Biochem?" Bobbi nods with a smile and Lance places his hand over hers and squeezes. She catches him trying not to grin proudly and she runs her thumb over his pinky. 

"Yeah, I have a PhD in Biology." Jemma's eyebrows fly up toward her hairline and Bobbi just barely manages not to snicker. "Do you need help with something?"

"Actually yes, that's what I came here to ask about. I'm going over some of the files I took when I was undercover at HYDRA and I could really use some help." Jemma looks slightly nervous as she waits for Bobbi to respond.

"Yeah, absolutely!" She stands, Lance's hand still wrapped around hers. She pauses, opens her mouth to ask, but Jemma beats her to it.

"Yes, of course Hunter can come," she says warmly and Bobbi ducks her head as Lance stands, twisting his hand to lace his fingers with hers.

"Lead the way, ladies."

-

Bobbi forgot how much she loved labwork. For the past two years, she'd been in the field more often than the lab, and she truly missed it. The crisp, sterile smell, the cupboards along the wall filled with various chemicals and substances, the machines spaced around the room just _begging_ to be used.

Jemma's easing her into the files she's been studying for months now, pointing out possible connections and theories. It feels like her skin is buzzing just out of excitement, and Bobbi feels like she could have a place where she belongs on the Playground, and with the team.

As she points out a few more correlations, Lance shifts on the stool he's perched on while reading on his tablet, and Bobbi has to suppress a grin when she feels his ankle wrapping around hers. While Jemma rearranges some of the files to test Bobbi's theories, Bobbi places her hand on Lance's knee, unable to hide the way her lips automatically curve up.

She's back in the lab and Lance is by her side; not much else is better than that.

-

"I'm putting a small team together to take to Texas," Coulson says as he brings up a map. "There's a radiation signature similar to the one we found in Guatemala. For this, I'll need Agents Triplett, Skye, Hunter, and Simmons to accompany me. Should be fairly quick, no hassle."

Bobbi tenses up and Lance moves to protest but she stops him by squeezing his hand. "We'll talk later," she mouths and he nods. Coulson continues to lay out more of the plan, touching on the finer details before finally dismissing everyone with, "Wheels up in 45."

 

Lance immediately drags Bobbi back to their bunk, and she moves to grab a duffel for him. 

"Bobbi, are you sure you're okay with this?" She shrugs as she sets it on the bed.

"You're an agent, Lance. It's what needs to be done."

"Yes, but are _you_ okay with this?" He places his hands on her shoulders and turns her so she's facing him, and she sighs. 

"To be honest, I don't know?" She slips her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans and tugs lightly, pulling him closer. "But we need to get back to reality. We've been living in what feels like a bubble, Hunter. How is any of this ever going to feel normal if we don't try?" She looks at him with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes and he hugs her tightly.

"You're going to go on that mission and do a kick ass job. And then you're going to come back to me, you got that?"she chokes out. He nods, pressing his nose to the side of her neck and inhaling deeply. She allows herself to relax, eyes fluttering shut. 

He moves to pull out the keychain but she stops him, her hand covering his. "Keep it. Give it back to me when you come back." He smiles softly before leveling her with a hard gaze.

"You're sure about this?" he asks and she rolls her eyes, lips tugging upward as she steps away and turns toward the dresser.

"If you keep asking, I'm going to shove your ass out in the field myself."

-

Saying goodbye isn't easy, but they both know it's never going to be easy. As he’s packing, Bobbi tells him she isn’t going to say it when everyone was watching. She's finally getting used to their eyes on her, but she doesn’t need to feel like they were scrutinizing her every move. 

He hefts his bag over his shoulder and she calls out, _“Don't die out there,”_ as he opens the door. Old habits die hard and, after what happened last time, she doesn't want to take any chances.

She spends an hour wandering around the Playground, half for the sake of exploring, half to keep her mind busy. By the time she has a fairly good mental map of the place, May finds her, lets her know her the team landed safely. 

Her nerves have at least been eased by that knowledge. But she still has hours and hours to kill. 

She kills a couple hours in the gym, testing out the machines and lifting weights. And then she finds the punching bags. That's where she spends most of her time in the gym. She kicks and hits and punches until she sees spots dancing in front of her eyes. She would've kept going, but her knuckles are actually bleeding, and she takes that as a sign that she should probably stop.

Her shower is relaxing and time consuming; just what she needs it to be. She doesn't even think as the scalding water pounds on her back and loosens her muscles. 

But now, she's sitting in their bunk, pressed into the corner of the room, legs held tightly to her chest. It's been four hours since they left. 

She's tried reading; couldn't even focus on the words. She's thought about possibly distracting herself in the lab, but that was _Jemma's_ lab. Bobbi doesn't want to fuck anything up, not when she's still learning the ins and outs of the team.

She saw Mack and Fitz playing video games on her way to the showers, and she had the fleeting thought of joining them. But she hasn't found an opportunity to clear things up with Mack, and she's not prepared to deal with that yet. Not while everything feels just slightly off.

So she's sitting in the corner of the room, staring blankly ahead at absolutely nothing, and her mind is racing. Bobbi can't stop thinking about all the possible 'what if's that could happen while he's out in the field.

_What if he gets shot? What if he doesn't make it back safely? What if she loses him after only just getting him back?_

-

Bobbi wakes in a panic, flinging her arms out and clawing at the wall, eyes wide in terror as she looks around. She's still pressed up tight against the corner of a faintly familiar room. It takes her a second to remember where she is, to stop hearing the explosions and gunfire echoing in her mind. 

She curls her shaking arms around her knees and hugs herself tightly, hoping that his sweatshirt will be enough to stop the panic she feels creeping up her spine. Bobbi sniffles quietly and wipes at her wet cheeks before bringing the sleeve close to her nose and inhaling. It smells exactly like him, and the sharpness of everything slowly fades away.

The clock on the bedside table reads _12:02,_ which means the team's been gone for six hours; it also means she'd only been asleep for a half hour. 

Coulson never gave a time frame for how long this mission was supposed to take. Never said if it would be short or long, just said he needed a team.

All Bobbi can do is hug herself and hope that he comes back soon, because this was a mistake and she really can't cope on her own.

-

Another hour passes before Bobbi finally stops shaking. Everything still feels way too tight but at least she's able to breathe somewhat comfortably. 

She's exhausted but her mind is wired; she knows that even if she tried to sleep, she'd be plagued by nightmares of him dying in a million different ways and her unable to do anything.

She remembers him mentioning that he had dreams of her dying for two years; she can't imagine what that must've been like. Bobbi can't even handle it on her own for one night, and he had to go through that alone for _two years_.

A key card swipes across the door, startling her back to reality, and she stands on unsteady legs, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt over her hands. 

The door swings open and Lance trudges inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. He looks up, sees her, and she crosses the room in four quick steps, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

They stumble back into the door as she buries her face in his neck, feeling his pulse beat against her lips. The air practically shakes out of her lungs and he squeezes her tightly, her feet lifting off the ground.

“I’m home,” he whispers quietly and she nods, hands fisting in his shirt as he sets her back on the ground. Bobbi wordlessly takes a half step away and tugs him toward the bed. He follows, taking her hands in his and lacing their fingers.

He holds onto her hips as she pulls his kevlar vest off and drops it to the ground, along with the duffel slung over his shoulder. She lays on the bed and reaches her hand out to him. Lance takes it and she gently eases him down on top of her, directing his head to rest over her heart. He lays between her legs and she wraps herself around him completely, holding him as much as she possibly can.

“You’re home,” she breathes quietly, repeating his previous sentiment. He goes limp in her arms with a hum that she feels deep in her bones, and she realizes that she’s home too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stuck with Skye because this isn't really s2 canon, and Trip is still alive because he should be, I miss him.
> 
> Also the next chapter may or may not be a little smutty (it was bound to happen, i mean, i wrote this thing), so should i: a) post it as a separate work or b) just up the rating of this entire thing and you can skip it if that's not your cup of tea?


	8. where you are, i will be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> upped the rating, thank you for your input ;)

The team starts acting weird as soon as Lance and Bobbi walk into the kitchen for breakfast. Jemma’s lying horribly and it takes everything Bobbi has to not burst out laughing. Skye keeps elbowing Trip with a sly smile. Fitz is abnormally silent and still, staring down into his cup of tea.

“What’s gotten into you lot?” Lance asks, leaning up against the counter as Bobbi. She turns, handing him both cups as she hops up on the counter. He sips from his cup quietly and raises an eyebrow as he looks over the team. 

“I’ve got two guesses,” she says to Lance as she takes her cup and presses her knee to his hip. He cranes his neck and tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. “One, Fitzsimmons finally kissed after _years_ of unresolved tension and now things are super awkward, and Skye’s trying to figure out a way to get them to work their issues out.” 

Bobbi grins widely as Fitz just barely manages to not choke on his tea and Jemma’s cheeks flush dark red. Lance rolls his eyes and elbows her knee. “Well? Am I right?” Jemma and Fitz both stutter out rambling answers until they see the look on Bobbi’s face.

“That was rude!” Jemma exclaims, placing her hands on her cheeks in an effort to hide her blush . Bobbi raises her eyebrows and hides her smirk behind her cup.

“Your second guess?” Skye chuckles, enjoying Fitzsimmons’ reactions more than she should’ve.

“You somehow found out it was our anniversary,” Bobbi says with a straight face, and Skye suddenly can’t look her in the eye.

“Damn it, who told you?” Lance groans, letting his head fall against Bobbi’s arm and she rolls her eyes at his dramatics.

“That would be me,” Mack says from the doorway, and Bobbi couldn’t stop the grin that spreads across her face even if she wanted to. “You two finally seem happy, why shouldn’t I tell the team?”

“Also, I promised I’d bake him cookies if he told us his secret,” Skye adds through a mouthful of bagel. 

“Do you two have any plans?” Jemma asks with a faint smile, Bobbi’s antics completely forgotten. Lance looks to Bobbi and she lifts her shoulders.

“We’ll probably just spend it like every other day,” Lance responds with a shrug and Bobbi nods her head in agreement. She catches Skye grinning like the chesire cat and she snorts.

“What did you do this time?” May asks as she walks through the kitchen, swiping a water bottle off the counter.

“Arranged for special anniversary plans for Hunter and Bobbi,” Skye says smugly. Lance whines as he turns to rinse his and Bobbi’s cups in the sink.

“Really?” Bobbi says in a small voice and Skye nods enthusiastically.

“Yup! Everything’s all planned. Bobbi, you swing by my room at 6. Hunter, you’ll be in Fitz’s room.” Fitz looks up at the sound of his name and Skye grins sheepishly. “Hey Fitz, can we borrow your room?” He groans as he lets his head to the table before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, fine. Just don’t touch anything.”

“Then it’s settled." Skye nods and shoves the last bite of her bagel in her mouth with a pleased smile. 

-

"I think we're finished!" Skye beams, placing her hands on her hips. Bobbi shoots her an unsteady smile before pushing off the mattress and walking over to the mirror. It takes her a second to realize that the woman staring back at her is _actually_ her. 

"Holy shit," she breathes as Skye and Jemma peer over her shoulders. 

Somehow, Jemma and Skye picked out the perfect dress for her. The blue makes her eyes sparkle and the cut accentuates her curves in all the right ways; ways that'll absolutely make Lance's mouth water. 

“Do you like it?” Jemma asks. Bobbi's still trying to process everything and her mouth just falls open as she looks herself up and down. “Oh god, you hate it. Skye, I told you-.” Jemma stops talking as soon as Bobbi raises her hand, loosely pointing in the direction of the mirror.

"I-. _Holy shit_." It's all she can say and Skye grins smugly. 

"If that's her reaction, I really can't wait to see Hunter's." Skye checks the clock and quickly grabs Bobbi by the shoulders, steering her toward the door. 

"If the boys did their job right, he should be here any-." Skye's cut off by a curt knock at the door and she grins. "-minute." Bobbi ducks her head as Skye squeezes her arm.

"You really do look beautiful," Jemma whispers before Skye pulls her off to the side, and Bobbi's cheeks burn bright red. 

She takes a steadying breath and yanks the door open. The air immediately rushes out of her lungs as soon as she lays eyes on Lance. 

He's dressed to the nines, in a suit and a tie that's the same deep blue of her dress. He's always been handsome but, _damn_ he cleans up nice. 

"Bloody hell," he exhales and she chuckles before she can stop herself, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You look stunning." She reaches out for his hand and the ball of nerves in her stomach fades instantly as soon as his skin slides against hers. 

"And don't you look incredibly handsome." Lance steps forward and presses his lips to hers sweetly, his free arm curling around her waist.

"Do you have any idea what they're up to?" he asks under his breath and she shakes her head, the tip of her nose brushing against his. 

"Alright you two, get a move on or you're going to be late," Skye reprimands but there's no heat behind it. Lance rolls his eyes and tugs Bobbi out into the hallway, all the way out to the garage. 

There's a car waiting for them, with Mack sitting in the front seat, a giant smile on his face.

"Happy anniversary," he says as Lance ushers Bobbi inside.

"What the hell is going on?" Bobbi chuckles as Lance scoots in beside her. 

"Not allowed to say. But I promise you'll enjoy it." She sighs and rests her head on Lance's shoulder as Mack drives them out of the Playground. 

-

"I can't believe the team arranged for that," Bobbi says in awe as Lance helps her out of the car. She grabs onto his arm and uses him to steady herself as she pulls her heels off.

"I'm going to have dreams about that lobster." Lance snorts as she laces their fingers and swings their hands between them as on the walk back to their bunk.

"I'm going to have dreams about you in that dress," he murmurs as an afterthought and she squeezes his hand. "And then decidedly _not_ in that dress." She twists and pushes him against the brick wall, smirking at the way his eyes darken.

"Why not make those dreams a reality?" He swallows thickly and she licks her lips before leaning in to kiss him, slow and soft. She pins his hand up against the brick and leans into him, pressing her chest to his. 

Bobbi's the one to break the kiss, stepping back and pulling him after her. He goes without any resistance, but simply raises an eyebrow in question. She nods as they walk down the hall, quicker than they were moving before. 

They reach the door and he fumbles while pulling out his badge, shoving the door open as soon as it unlocks. He walks in backward, eyes locked on her as she follows him. 

“The girls didn’t just pick out the dress,” Bobbi says slowly and drops her heels, reaching around to find the zipper of the dress. She can hear him taking deep breaths as she drags the zipper down. She closes her eyes as she starts to push at the straps, but then his hands cover hers and she freezes.

“Look at me, Bob,” he whispers and she sighs before doing as requested. He’s staring at her with a warm gaze and it makes the tips of her ears burn. He pushes at the loose fabric until it slips off her shoulders and pools around her feet.

His eyes don’t leave hers as he trails his hands down her ribcage with a feather light touch, making her snicker at the ticklish sensation. He finally looks down and his mouth goes slack.

It’s just simple black lace but it contrasts with her skin beautifully and it makes her boobs look _magnificent_. She swears that she can even see a bit of drool shining on his bottom lip.

“That good?” He groans in response and ducks his head to kiss the tops of her breasts. Bobbi cups the back of his head and holds him close as he runs his tongue along the line of lace. He kisses her sternum softly before straightening and tugging her toward the bed. 

“God, it’s been a while,” he breathes as he squeezes her hip, fingers dipping under the lace there, and she nods, loosening the knot of his tie.

“Too damn long,” she agrees, pushing the suit jacket off his shoulders and pulling the tie off over his head. 

His shirt is the next thing to go, her fingers skimming over the new skin that’s revealed as she undoes the buttons. Lance steps out of his shoes as he peels his shirt off, throwing it across the room. He stumbles trying to take his socks off and she laughs, holding onto his arms to steady him. 

She pulls him back up for a kiss, hands on either side of his face. A chuckle bubbles out of her lips, still pressed to his, and she breaks the kiss to laugh. He snorts and kisses the corner of her mouth as he fiddles with his belt. 

She takes over, shoving his hands out of the way and tugging the zipper down. His pants puddle around his feet and he steps out of them, guiding Bobbi down on the bed. She spreads her legs and pulls him down on top of her, hitching her legs high up on his hips.

Lance captures her lips in a heated kiss as he pushes her up the bed, hands gliding over her ribcage to cup her breasts over her bra. She breaks the kiss and throws her head back when he pulls one cup low enough to drag his thumb over her nipple. 

And then his mouth is hot and wet on her breast and all she can do is hold him there and gasp for air. Bobbi reaches a hand behind her, struggling to find the clasp, but then he’s sliding a hand under her back and unhooking her bra.

She tugs his short hair as he moves to her other breast, paying it the same attention as its twin. He nudges her bra down to her stomach with his chin while tracing along the sensitive underside of her breast before squeezing it gently. Bobbi whimpers as she arches into his mouth.

Her chest is tinged pink and he hums appreciatively before moving down her body. She tightens her grip on his hair and he stops immediately and looks up at her.

“Do you want control?” he asks quietly. She stares at him for a brief moment before nodding slowly, and he drops a soft kiss to her lips.

They switch positions so she’s straddling his hips and a sigh rattles out of her chest.

“Bobbi, are you sure about this?” She can’t help but smile at his concern.

“Yeah,” she responds, nodding again. “It’s just nerves.” She leans down to kiss him and rocks her hips forward. Lance moans softly and she worries his bottom lip between her teeth. His hands ghost over her back and down to her ass, pushing down as she continues to rock her hips.

She sits up and braces her hands on his chest, changing her movements to slow circles. His head thumps against the mattress and she grins smugly; it’s good to know that she’s still got it, even after two years.

Lance plays with the hem of her underwear, fingertips dipping just underneath the lace and tracing light swirls over her skin. His hips jerk up into hers and she grinds down on his clothed erection, humming quietly when it presses up against her just right.

“Off, off, get these off,” he mutters suddenly and she tilts to the side so she can pull her underwear off. By the time she settles back down, his underwear have joined the rest of their clothes on the floor, and she pauses to look at him.

He hasn’t changed all that much. A few new scars here and there, some faint while others are more prominent; she’s thankful there’s nowhere near the same amount of scars that litter her own body. He’s built up muscle in those two years, but she knows that comes with being an agent.

The way he stares at her hasn’t changed; like he’s seeing her for the first time, drinking her in every time his gaze roams over her. It makes her feel vulnerable but safe at the same time.

She reaches down, takes him in her hand and pumps a few times, watching as his cheeks fill with color. The head of his cock drags through her folds and she rolls her hips down, suddenly aching with the need to have him inside her.

“Condom?” he asks as she raises up on her knees. She shakes her head, chin tucked down into her chest as she slowly lowers herself onto his cock.

“Birth control,” she pants, pausing as she stretches to accommodate him. “Wanna feel you.” Lance groans softly as he nods and slides his hands up to her ribcage, fanning his fingers out.

By the time she’s fully seated, her nails are digging into his chest and her hips are twitching as she forces herself to relax. She opens her eyes and finds him staring at her, waiting for her reaction. She smiles breathlessly and leans down to kiss him. It shifts the angle just enough and her lips part against his, allowing him to slide his tongue alongside hers.

Bobbi rolls her hips slowly, testing things out, and a whimper catches in the back of her throat. They set a slow rhythm, her hips rocking down as he thrusts up into her. 

His hands move down to squeeze her ass while also gently guiding her movements. She breaks the kiss as she pushes herself back up on trembling arms. Lance stills her hips and she looks up at him.

“You okay?” he asks, trailing his fingers up her spine. "You sure we're not moving too fast?" Bobbi smiles and curves her palm around the side of his neck.

“Yeah,” she answers, then drags her teeth over her bottom lip. "It's just. It's been a while." She wiggles her hips and he arches his back, head falling on the mattress. 

Lance stares at her with hooded eyes and her hips jerk of their own accord. A gasp falls from her lips and his hand moves to cover hers on his chest.

“Do you wanna-.” She breaks off suddenly with another gasp and he nods, immediately understanding what she's asking. 

He cups her ass as she raises up on her knees, a whine catching in the back of her throat when he slides out of her. His hand smooths over her back, up to her shoulder, and he pushes gently. She lays down on her back, shifting to get comfortable as he flips, nudging her legs apart to kneel between them.

His hand follows the line of her arm, all the way up to cup her jaw and she leans into his touch. Bobbi smiles softly as she bends her knees. 

“You sure you're okay wi-.”

“Yes, I'm sure!” she chuckles, lifting her hands above her head. He grins before dropping kisses to her lips, her cheeks, down her neck. She dissolves into more laughter, until his mouth closes over her nipple and she moans quietly.

He licks and sucks and nips until she's rolling her hips forcefully up into his, breath hitching in her throat with every inhale. She tugs him up for a breathless kiss, hooking her leg around his hips and pressing her body to his.

She slips her free hand between them and takes him in her hand, guiding him toward her entrance. Her nails dig into his skin as he fills her completely.

“Hunter, fu-, _Lance_ , oh god,” she babbles senselessly, scratching down the side of his neck, leaving long red lines. Bobbi brings her other leg up to wrap around his waist, gasping as it shifts the angle slightly. 

He smooths her hair back before pressing his lips to hers, curling his arm around her head. She slides her hands around to his sides, trailing her fingers over his ribcage. He rests his forehead against hers as he slowly pulls back before moving back in and she mewls.

Lance sets a slow, steady pace, keeping his eyes on her face as he moves. She drops her hands from his side and fists the sheets, arching her back off the bed. Her eyes flutter shut as he leans down and mouths at her breast, sucking lightly at her nipple. 

She can feel her orgasm building, a slow burning fire low in her belly, and every thrust, every lick, every open-mouthed kiss sends sparks through her veins, bringing her closer to that edge. A whine that sounds something like his name escapes past her lips and he speeds up his movements, feeling close himself. 

He sucks bruises into her neck as his hand skims down her body. She gasps, high pitched and breathy, as he slides two fingers over her clit, rubbing back and forth in time with his thrusts. 

“Lance, I'm so cl-,” she sobs, cut off by his mouth slanting over hers. Lights flash behind her eyelids and she whines into the kiss, pulling him as close as she possibly can.

He thrusts in, presses down on her clit, and she cries out sharply, thighs trembling as she comes. He follows her over the edge almost immediately, groaning a jumble of unintelligible syllables into her skin.

He rests his forehead against hers as he tries to catch his breath, slowly pulling out of her. With her legs still wrapped around his waist, she pulls him down before letting her legs fall. She hums quietly as she stretches out, feeling an ache, a _good_ ache, start to settle in muscles she hasn't used in a long time. 

“Holy shit,” she pants and he chuckles breathlessly, turning his head to kiss her cheek. 

“That was…” He trails off, not knowing how to end the sentence, but she nods in agreement anyway. Lance rolls off her and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, twisting with him.

A smile spreads across her face and she leans forward to press kisses over his face, anywhere her mouth can reach. He laughs, snorts even, at how carefree she seems and he curves a hand around her back. 

“You seem happy. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.” She hums against his cheek and tangles her legs with his.

“Well, I just had sex for the first time in two years. With my husband. I _am_ happy.” He pauses for a minute and stares at the wall.

“Bloody hell, it has been two years.” She laughs again, throwing her head back. 

“Time flies,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against his. "Now we've got all the time in the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how are there two chapters left what is happening
> 
> also how am i still so bad at updating wtf


	9. come away with me

There's the sound of a camera shutter and Bobbi opens her eyes, squinting at the bright morning light.

“What're you doin’?” she mutters and Lance looks up suddenly, dropping his phone.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning over and sliding the phone under his body. He presses his lips to hers and she grins at his sly attempt to change the topic.

“Mhmm, nice try. What’s on the phone?” She stretches out and rolls toward him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He sighs and fishes his phone out, pulling up the photo he took.

Her hair’s a mess and the sheet is barely covering her up, but her skin practically glows in the sunlight and she looks completely at peace. Her smile softens and she turns to look at him, only to find him staring at her. Bobbi doesn’t say anything, just reaches up to kiss him again, slow and soft. 

“If you keep that up, we’re never going to get out of bed,” he mumbles and she chuckles.

“Is that really such a bad thing?” Lance pulls back and tucks her hair behind her ear.

“Well, considering it’s the first day of our vacation…” He trails off and she heaves a sigh dramatically. 

“I guess we should get out and sightsee.” Bobbi rolls off him, dragging her mouth along his collarbone. She can’t stop the smile that splits her face when she hears the air stutter out of his lungs as she walks to the bathroom, swaying her hips for extra measure.

“You gonna lay there all morning or come join me in the shower?” There’s an answering _thump_ as he scrambles out of bed and falls onto the floor.

-

“First order of business,” she says around a bite of pancakes. Lance freezes and glances up at her, fork suspended in midair and mouth open, waiting to eat. Bobbi rolls her eyes and gestures in his direction with her own fork, fondly saying, “You can keep eating, dumbass.” 

“What exactly did you have in mind for this vacation? I assume staying in bed all day doesn’t fit in with those plans.” He snorts and she grins as she sips her coffee.

“While that sounds fantastic, just getting away from SHIELD seemed like a good idea. Taking some time to be ourselves.” He cuts the pancake and she stabs it before he can, sticking her tongue out before closing her lips around her fork. “Oi, you’ve got your half of the stack, let me have mine.” 

“So, after we finish eating, what should we do?” Lance thinks for a moment, taking the time to eat. Her gaze is immediately drawn to the tip of his tongue as it darts out to catch a drip of syrup.

“Walk around? Find terribly touristy things to do?” 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Bobbi beams, placing her hand on his forearm for a brief moment while pushing the plate toward him. “I’m full. You eat what you want, and then we’ll go.”

-

There’s another shutter noise. But this time, Bobbi laughs with her cheek pressed to his. He turns suddenly, nose mashed up against the side of her face and she laughs again as he takes another photo.

“I think we have enough photos,” she giggles as she pushes at his forearm. He puts the phone down and wraps his arms around his waist, burying his face in the side of her neck. His scruff tickles and she laughs harder but then he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses to her skin. Her mouth falls open and she lets out a breathy sigh as he sucks gently, a hint of teeth adding a sharp bite of pain to the pleasure.

“We’re in public,” she murmurs and he groans before straightening. He doesn’t let go though; if anything, he pulls her even closer, nearly into his lap. She turns to look at him, the tip of her nose bumping his, and she grins.

He opens his mouth to say something but then a kid runs through the fountain behind them, splashing water everywhere. Lance gets the brunt of it, shirt soaked and sticking to his chest, his hair matted to his forehead. Bobbi pulls her lips into her mouth, trying desperately not to laugh as she wipes the water off his face.

She leans forward to kiss him and the pout on his face immediately disappears. “Well, we were planning on going to the beach anyway,” she says against his lips and he snorts, letting his head fall to her shoulder as laughter takes over.

-

Lance kicks his shoes off, sighing as his toes hit the warm sand. He looks up just in time to see the sunlight for a second and then his vision is blocked. He shakes off the fabric on his head, dropping it as soon as he realizes that it's Bobbi's shirt.

She's running toward the water in a blue bikini and he stares for a long time. A _really_ long time. 

"Lance!" she yells, running a hand over her wet hair. He blinks a few times and clamps his mouth shut as he tugs at his shirt. He meets her in the water, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down with him. Her shriek turns into a wet gurgle as they go under, her legs kicking into his.

He breaks through the surface of the water, shaking his hair out like a wet dog. A wave hits him in the face and he shouts as he nearly falls over again. There's a giggle and then her arms slip around his shoulder, her stomach sliding against his.

He opens his eyes and finds her beaming at him, sun glowing around her head like a halo. His heart skips a beat and he knows he's staring, but _god_ his wife is beautiful.

Lance smiles briefly before cupping her jaw and pulling her in for a gentle kiss. She sighs into his mouth and relaxes, pressing the length of her torso to his. 

"Hotel?" she asks, breaking the kiss, and he licks his lips.

"I'm fine right here," he replies as he places his hand in the small of her back. 

"And here I thought you _didn't_ want to spend this entire vacation making out."

"Mmm, I believe I said we shouldn't spend all day in bed." She rolls her eyes but nonetheless rests her forehead against his. "I never said anything about doing those activities elsewhere."

Bobbi thumps the side of his head lightly and he squawks. "We're at the beach, Lance. We are not having sex on the beach. Remember Mexico?" Lance shudders and she nods. "Exactly."

-

There are people everywhere. It’s close to dinner time so it makes sense that there would be families looking for places to eat. Normally, Bobbi would be fine with it. 

But Lance’s hand slipped out of hers some time ago; her chest hurts and everything feels too close, too loud, too much. She looks around, trying to appear calm, but her head whips too quickly and she can feel her mask slipping. She’s still stood where she stopped in the middle of the street as soon as she realized he wasn’t with her anymore.

A pair of arms, strong and familiar, wrap around her waist, pulling her into the body behind her, and a sigh shudders out of her lungs.

"Lost you for a minute there," he says and she immediately twists in his arms and wraps her arms around his neck. The rest of the world fades away as she buries her face in his neck, his pulse beating against her cheek. Bobbi can feel herself shaking as he rubs his hand up and down his back.

"I'm here, Bob." She looks up and they're standing in a niche between two stores, far from where they were last standing and she fists his shirt.

"Can we go back to the hotel?" she asks timidly and he brings a hand up to her face, thumb sweeping across her cheek. She leans into his palm and closes her eyes, every thought focused on the feel of his skin on hers. His lips touch the tip of her nose and she opens her eyes to find him staring at her with an adoring gaze that makes her blush.

"Of course," he replies, kissing her cheek this time and she runs her hand up his neck, combing through the short hairs on the back of his head. 

They stand there for another moment, foreheads pressed together, before he takes her hand and slowly guides her through the crowded streets. She clutches his hand tightly, focus narrowing down to keeping him next to her as he leads the way back. 

“C’mon,” he says and it startles Bobbi, making her look around with jerky movements. They’re standing just outside the door of their room, him holding it open as he tugs on her hand. 

It scares her that she can’t remember anything between the street and the hotel.

She follows him willingly, suddenly feeling very drained. Lance pulls her to the bed and she lays down, curling in on herself. And then he’s crawling over her and she presses her body as close to his as she possibly can. Some of the tension bleeds out of her as soon as his arm wraps around her back. He hugs her closer, pulling her into his side, and she lets her head rest on the joint of his shoulder.

“Did I ever tell you about the cat Idaho rescued?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. When she doesn’t answer, he launches right into the story as he gently combs his fingers through her hair. “I think you’d gone on a mission, and Iz and Idaho and I had just accepted a job.”

“We were in this shitty little town, not to mention a dump of a hotel, but that was to be expected, I guess. Anyway, Idaho comes back with a bag of groceries and this little ball of matted fur. He brings this little thing back home with him and nurses it back to health.” He lifts his hand from where it’s resting on his chest and holds it up.

“The little fucker bit the hell out of me. Tiny razor sharp teeth and claws.” Bobbi catches sight of a small half moon on the back of his hand and she tries to run her thumb over it. She’s shaking too much to properly follow the line and she drops her hand back down, feeling overwhelmingly ashamed. Lance is quick to take her hand and lace their fingers together, bringing her hand back up to kiss her knuckles. 

He continues to tell her random stories, some that she’s heard a million times and some brand new, and, at some point, she starts to doze off. “Remember that time you rapped my knuckles with a wooden spoon so hard that the bruise lasted for two weeks?”

“You shouldn’t have tried to eat the raw cookie dough,” she murmurs sleepily as she curls around him and he snorts, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“You can sleep, love,” he hums into her skin and she sighs, letting the rhythm of his breathing lull her to sleep. "I'll be here."

-

The sky's ink black when she wakes up. Somehow while sleeping, Bobbi's managed to roll completely on top of him, her legs wrapped halfway around his hips. It's humid and sweltering, but there's no place she'd rather be, curled up on his chest. She hums and nuzzles into his collarbone as she combs her fingers through his short hair. 

And that's when it hits her, how much she doesn't deserve someone as good as Lance. He deserves to be with someone who's not nearly as fucked up as she is. Not to mention the shit she put him through by making that one decision to leave.

She constantly needs him to be by her side just to simply get through the day. He can’t even do his job properly because she freaks at the idea of him being out in the field. Every time she panics when he's gone, she always feels ashamed later on, for needing him so badly that she can't function when he's not around. 

"I can hear you thinking," he mumbles suddenly, making her flinch. His arms curl around her back, holding her even closer. She pulls her hands back and tucks her chin into her chest, staring blankly out the window.

“I put you through hell,” she breathes, the words catching in her throat. He shifts underneath her, twisting his head to look at her better. “How can you still want to be with me?" His mouth falls open as she tries to curl in on herself, practically shying away from him. 

"Bobbi, I love you." She shrugs her shoulders and huffs a laugh through her nose.

"Even after all that I put you through?" she asks in disbelief, nails digging into her palm as she squeezes her hands into fists. 

"It was hell being _without_ you," he responds, bringing one hand up to take hers and interlock their fingers. His thumb sweeps along the length of hers and she bites down on her lip. "It's completely understandable for you to react in the way that you do. It's trauma, and you know well enough that people deal with it in their own ways." 

Her body relaxes slightly and he takes it as a small step in the right direction. "You're here now. That's all I care about," he murmurs, pressing his lips to her forehead, and she swallows audibly. "I love you. I'm glad you're a part of my life. I want you by my side, forever." She tilts her chin up and looks at him with shining eyes as she shakes her head, tears threatening to spill over. 

"I promise you that I'm right where I want to be, alright?" He twists onto his side, guiding Bobbi down on the mattress and pressing as much of his body to hers as he can. His legs slot between hers and he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into him. "Right here, right now, I'm exactly where I should be," he says with a note of firmness and she sniffles, gently resting her hand on the side of his neck.

"I'm sorry I get like this," she whispers and Lance smiles fondly.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. I'm here to help you get through this. And you will. _We_ will. Together." He bumps the tip of his nose to hers and she lets her eyes slide shut as she leans into his touch.

"I love you."

"I know."


	10. i want you with me on this road to the sky

Lab work is one thing that keeps her calm. It’s something easy and familiar that Bobbi can lose herself in. She’s thankful that the work she’s doing isn’t hazardous, so Lance can sit in her chair as she records data from her tests. 

He’s reading over another mission briefing, his brow furrowed in concentration. She glances at him over her shoulder, smiling when his tongue peeks out between his lips as he underlines something. 

The computer pings, letting her know that her simulations are finished, and she looks back at it, frowning when it’s nothing like she predicted. She sighs and changes a different variable before starting up the simulation again. 

While the program runs, she walks toward her chair and he looks up, opening his arms as she draws closer. She sits in his lap and kisses his cheek as he lays the folder on her thighs. 

“First impression of it?” Bobbi asks, nodding toward the file. He whines quietly as he rests his head on her shoulder and she cards her fingers through his hair. “That bad?”

“It’s not dangerous. Well. It’s not life-threatening. You know all missions have an element of danger.” She hums and scratches his scalp lightly, leaning her head on his. There’s a long awkward silence and she closes her eyes, listens to his breathing.

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

“Trip and May’ll be waiting in the quinjet as backup.” Her heart skips a beat and she slowly sits up, trying to keep calm.

“Backup to who?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her stomach turns to lead and she swallows around the lump in her throat. 

“Just me,” he mumbles, the arm around her back curling tighter, and she nods slowly. He looks up when she doesn’t say anything or doesn’t noticeably react. “Bob?”

“You’re an agent,” she says numbly. “Missions happen. We both know that.”

“But Bobbi-.” 

“Coulson chose you.” She forces a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes and his shoulders deflate. “He needs your skills. And Trip and May are both good agents, they’ll have your back.”

“Bobbi.” His voice is firm yet gentle and she finally turns to meet his gaze, finding nothing but warmth and love. “Will you be okay with it?” She shrugs halfheartedly and lets him bear the brunt of her weight as she leans into him.

“You and I both know what’s happened before, what _could_ happen. There’s no way to know what’ll actually happen, right? Anyway, this most likely isn’t a mission you can get out of, if Coulson’s elected you to go in alone.” The last few words make her stomach clench almost painfully and she manages to not screw her face up.

“It’s only supposed to take a day, if that even.”

She looks down at her lap and he brings his free hand up to her jaw, thumbing the sharp line of it. “Hey,” Lance says softly and she sighs. “I'll be back before you know it.”

The computer notifies her that it's done and she twists to kiss his palm before heading back to her station. Her shoulders feel heavy, as if she's physically carrying the news he'd given her. 

The data looks better this time, so she sends it off to Jemma and starts cleaning up her workspace.

“Bob?” She turns as her computer finishes shutting down to find Lance standing right behind her. He cups her cheek and steps forward until he’s right up in her space. She can’t stop the small smile that curves her lips up even if she tries. 

“It’ll be okay,” Bobbi says quietly and he strokes his thumb back and forth before pulling her in for a sweet kiss. The lie sits heavy in the bottom of her stomach, but if it comforts him, then it would have to be enough.

-

It is _not_ okay.

Coulson was going to kill him for missing debrief, but they'd gotten in late. So much later than Coulson expected. Things had gone wrong; Lance had gotten involved in a long and winded shootout, with him outnumbered eight to one, instead of the expected four to one. May and Trip had to come down and save his ass. Then they had issues with getting the jet off the ground; it took a half hour to realize some dumbass had disabled most of the switches while no one was looking, and another half hour to fix it. 

His phone actually took a bullet, luckily saving him from a nasty wound on his thigh, but meaning he didn't have a way of contacting Bobbi. At least not directly. He asked Coulson to notify her that they'd be late but his only response was, "We can't find her."

Needless to say, that had sent him into a bit of a tizzy.

She'd gotten herself into a state the last time he went on a mission. He can't even begin to imagine what he'll find back on base. 

The jet lands and Lance takes off, not even bothering to catch whatever May yells at his retreating form. He doesn’t know how he gets to his bunk, he’s just there, swiping his card and shoving the door open.

He walks inside just in time to see her curling in on herself, shoulders shaking as she hiccups, and he can feel his heart break. She’s half dressed in tac gear, one boot laced up and the vest hanging awkwardly off her body, making it hard for her to hug her sides. Lance doesn’t even bother kicking off his shoes, just crawls on the bed and gently covers her hand with his. 

He tries to be careful but she still flinches away from him and looks at him with distant, panicked eyes. It’s as if a dam breaks, and he suddenly finds her in his lap, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Tears splash against the little skin that’s not covered and he pulls her as close as possible.

“I-I thought of going b-back in the field,” she hiccups into his neck and he swears  
under his breath. “You w-were out there and I wanted to help. But as soon as I put on the gear I-. I just-.” She breaks down in sobs and he twists his head to press his lips to her temple. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and she clutches his shirt tighter. “I’m so sorry, I’ll n-. Bob?” She's tugging at his bulletproof vest, made difficult by their arrangement, but it didn't seem like she was moving anytime soon. 

“Bobbi, what’re you doing?” Lance asks as she gets more and more frustrated by the offending article. She finally loosens it and yanks it over his head, his shirt following it not long after. Her ice-cold hands brush over his ribcage and he can't hold back a squeak as she searches frantically. 

It's not until he takes her hands in his that she calms down and meets his gaze. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” She sighs and leans into him, sniffling softly. 

“Needed to make sure you’re okay,” she mumbles. “Had to see it with my own eyes. God knows how many times you've skipped medical.” Lance snorts at her weak attempt at a joke to distract from everything else. 

“Look who's talking.” She sniffles again and presses her forehead to his, eyelids fluttering shut. He tilts his head to kiss her cheek, arms winding around her waist. 

“I’m here,” he breathes and some of the tension bleeds out of her. Lance lays down, holding her close to his chest as he settles. “I'm not going anywhere.”

-

A hand slides up her back and she stretches out, slumping into the mattress when her back cracks. 

“Morning,” Lance hums in her ear and she smiles, flipping onto her back so she can properly look at him. He's dressed and his eyes are bright, which means he's been awake for some time. He places his hand on her waist and she makes a noise akin to a purr as he pushes up the hem of her shirt, thumb skimming over the sensitive skin there. “Or, should I say, afternoon.”

“Why didn't you wake me up?” she yawns, tugging on his arm until he sits by her hip. 

“Coulson just wanted to debrief, seeing as I ran off yesterday.” Bobbi feels her cheeks heat up and she covers her eyes, face screwing up. 

“I’m s-.”

“No, hush.” She peeks between her fingers when he cuts her off suddenly, and his grip on her waist tightens. “Don't be sorry, I made that decision on my own.” She smiles, although it doesn't quite reach her eyes. 

“I also had something else I wanted to talk to him about.” She tilts her head inquisitively and he sighs, gaze moving from her face to his lap. 

She sits up and brings her legs to her chest, gently squeezing his arm. “What is it?”

“I handed in my badge,” Lance answers after a long moment of silence. Her eyebrows fly to her hairline and she scoots closer, dangling her legs over the edge. 

“You what? Why?” Her chest constricts and her nails dig into his skin, sure to leave dark half-moons. His lips curve up at the corners and he covers her hand with his before flipping it and lacing their fingers. “Lance-.”

“I don't like leaving you behind, or making you worry. And I can't just tell Coulson to take me off all field missions.” Her mouth falls open slightly and he leans into her. “This wasn't something I just decided off the top of my head, Bob. The thought crossed my mind in those first few days after I got you back. It never quite left my head, and last night was the push I needed.” 

Bobbi turns her head to look away from him, tears welling up in her eyes. He drops his chin to her shoulder, twisting to kiss her collarbone.

“Never wanted to be an agent, love. I came because Izzy needed backup. I stayed because Coulson asked. And to see if I could dig up any dirt on what happened to you.” She doesn’t have any words, doesn’t even know what she there is to say. He seems to catch onto this and continues on. “Didn’t know what I’d even turn up, but it was a good way to keep myself occupied. And now I’ve got you back. There really isn’t a reason for me to stay here.” She sniffles softly and cranes her neck so she can properly meet his gaze.

“What’s gonna happen?”

“Well, we should probably start with moving off-base.” Bobbi grips his hand tighter and he sweeps his thumb along the back of hers. “Hey. I’m not going anywhere without you. I don’t ever plan on letting you go, we’ve been over this. A lot.” He chuckles as he tilts his head to the side and smiles warmly at her, and it eases the tightness in her chest.

“I know that, I just…” She trails off and shrugs her free shoulder. 

“I know,” he grins. “And, if we leave, we can do whatever we want, world’s full of possibilities. As long as you're by my side, I don't care what we do.” 

Bobbi very suddenly tackles him to the bed, knees pressing against his sides while she braces herself on her forearms, on either side of his head. He laughs and tucks her hair behind her ear in a futile attempt to get it out of his face, laughing harder when it falls right back. 

“Anything we want?”

“Anything.” She finally allows herself a small smile and brushes her nose against his. 

“Together,” she says firmly and Lance nods. 

“Together,” he agrees before leaning up to capture her lips in a sweet kiss. They've got all the time in the world, might as well waste a little of it wrapped up in each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _(intro - ariana grande)_
> 
> sorry this took way too long to post. life got a little out of hand. 
> 
> thank you for taking the time to read this (and for waiting so damn long uwu). hit me up if you ever wanna talk or if you have prompts, my muse could use the push rn. i love every single one of you that's read this, it means a lot to me <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mockingqvake) || [tumblr](http://teacupandhellbeast.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi/yell at me!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/bobbiimorses)  
> [tumblr](https://http://teacupandhellbeast.tumblr.com/)


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